


giving up this game

by annemari



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annemari/pseuds/annemari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What happened was that around two years ago, after their night time show, Matt Fincham turned to Nick and said, "Hey, you know Louis Tomlinson, right? They want you to do football with him."</i>
</p><p><i>To which Nick said, "Do </i>what<i>?"</i></p><p>The one where Nick and Louis do the alternative football commentary and the action isn't only on the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	giving up this game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrongtree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongtree/gifts).



> Dear **wrongtree**! I know you said "Eurovision" in your prompt, but, well. Football was on while I was writing this, so this happened. *waves hands* I checked with the mod, who said they were fairly sure you wouldn't mind! I hope you still enjoy the story!
> 
> This is an AU where Louis and Niall work in radio, so the ages of the boys are slightly handwaved.
> 
> Thank you so much to A for letting me bounce ideas off of her, encouraging me, and helping me out when I got stuck. Thank you to J and R for betaing and britpicking, you guys are awesome! Thank you to Alison for putting this challenge together!
> 
> Title from "Are You Happy Now?" by Michelle Branch.

Nick's most prominent memories of football are his father dragging him out to games in the hope that something will rub off on him. It's been years and years, and that's still what comes to him first. Not even that time he fucked up his foot _playing_ football, no. Just the cold, rainy afternoons and the utter _boredom_ and the horrible fact of being expected to pay attention to one thing for more than ten minutes.

It's why he doesn't really feel bad about making his own fun.

"We're not playing this game," Louis says, frowning at the screen. "We're here to give people a proper commentary of a World Cup match."

"We're here to give an _alternative_ commentary," Nick says. "And of course we're playing this. It's the best part!"

"It's disrespectful!" Louis says. "And annoying, and stupid and—"

"Oh, look, here it goes!" says Nick as the camera starts to pan over the Spanish players. "No. No. Hmm, yes. Maybe? Oh, yes."

Louis sighs very loudly. "I can't believe we're doing this again."

"It's tradition!" Nick insists. "Come on, Tomlinson, play with me."

Niall, Louis's regular producer, giggles and Nick grins at him. "Niall would totally play with me," he says. "Oh man, _yes_. Who was that one again?"

"Xabi Alonso," Louis sighs.

"And?" Nick prompts.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Yes, okay, I would."

"Me too," Niall pipes up immediately. Nick is really fond of Niall.

"Amazing," Nick says. "Oh, that one from Holland looks good, doesn't he?"

He expects Louis to at least roll his eyes in response, because, really, Nick _knows_ Louis likes this game. They've played it several times before. Louis always tries to act like he's above it, but caves eventually. This time, though, he just starts rattling off some information about the Dutch team. Boring.

It carries on well into the match, with Louis just narrating what's happening or talking to Niall about the teams' chances. It doesn't really bode well, Nick feels, for the rest of their commentary this year.

"And Ramos makes the switch to Alba," Louis says.

"How do you know which is which?" Nick asks, mostly for the radio. He knows Louis has a list of the players and their positions and plays and all that. They've done this before and Nick hasn't bothered to read those papers _once_.

He reads texts and tweets and takes it upon himself to talk to the callers during halftime, unless the caller is an intense football fan, in which case they usually prefer to speak to Louis. He makes funny comments that have Niall absolutely losing it. He doesn't need to know the players' names.

"It's because I'm a professional," Louis answers, the "unlike you" going unsaid. Nick frowns. He's used to Louis's quips, but they're usually accompanied by a smug look or a small quirk of the lips. Sometimes a self-deprecating smile. Right now he just sounds cold.

"Well, obviously," Nick says. "It's not like they'll trust this important job to just anyone."

Louis frowns and doesn't reply. It's weird.

Nick turns back to the computer screen. There's a post in the Tumblr tag that just says, "oh my god just fUCK ALREADY".

Nick freezes for a moment and then scrolls past it.

Right. About that.

~

What happened was that around two years ago, after their night time show, Matt Fincham turned to Nick and said, "Hey, you know Louis Tomlinson, right? They want you to do football with him."

To which Nick said, "Do _what_?"

Nick did know Louis. Louis sometimes did a little show on the weekends with Greg, that Nick had ended up listening to a few times. He was also apparently some sort of football savant. That didn't really explain anything, though.

Apparently the idea was to get someone to do alternative radio commentary on a few of the European Cup matches. Nick wasn't sure why they picked him to do it alongside a new kid who was mostly shadowing Greg, but he figured it'd be interesting, so he agreed.

It was _very_ interesting. Not the matches, those were pretty rubbish, and Nick was _so_ bored by them. But Louis was fascinating—unexpectedly so, Nick would say—and the shows came together well.

Originally the idea had been to make the commentary a bit less about the narration of the game, and have people come in and talk rubbish and take calls during the matches and make it fun and a bit odd. But everyone quickly realised that Louis was absolutely obsessed with football and hated being interrupted during commentating. So it was up to Nick to keep things funny and connect to their audience, who were probably looking for more than just the official type commentary.

They worked pretty well—Louis was always exasperated by Nick's lack of knowledge when it came to football, but Nick still understood the game just enough to keep Louis from probably killing him. The main thing was that Nick was able to sense when interrupting Louis could end painfully and when it was okay to throw in random comments and quips. He also figured out that the best way to distract Louis from having a go at him was to yell, "Oh my god, what's happening now?"

It worked. It might have sounded at times like they absolutely hated each other, but it worked.

Nick did a couple of shows besides football with Louis—he brought him to night time in between their Euro 2012 commentary; he sat in on Louis doing Innuendo Bingo on Scott's show once, stuff like that. Louis was genuinely funny and a complete _brat_. Disruptive and loud and taking a joke too far, letting it go on too long, to the point where Nick was laughing at just the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. But he was dead serious about football. 

And Nick understood caring about something, he did, but it should be lighthearted and _fun_ , and Louis got so snippy about it, and Nick absolutely loved to play against that. Matt once said he behaves like a child during their commentary, but Nick didn't care, because it was funny and the people liked it and Matt wasn't producing the show anyway.

The main thing was that Nick liked Louis. He liked how Louis responded to him, how Louis tried so hard not to laugh at Nick's jokes, and Nick liked how Louis clearly enjoyed doing the radio. Nick had done enough shows with people who didn't really seem to _love_ it, but Louis did. Also he was super fit and gave Nick _attention_.

So the fact that they ended up getting off in the toilets one night when they were out with some of the crew wasn't really a surprise.

They were both tipsy, but not drunk enough to not remember anything after. Nick remembers Louis's mouth on his, Louis's small hands on Nick's dick, Louis's _mouth_ on Nick's dick. He remembers bracing Louis with a hand around his waist afterwards while getting Louis off. He even remembers the noises Louis made. Strangely vividly, too. Distractingly so, really.

The weirdest part of the whole thing was that Nick really, really wanted it to happen again. Usually he would've been quite indifferent about it, especially considering he wasn't really lacking in hook-up partners.

He was pretty into Louis, though, so it hurt that Louis decided to completely ignore him after. Nick sent a few texts, just friendly ones, nothing _desperate_. He didn't hear anything back, though, didn't see Louis at all. A couple of weeks later the announcement that Nick'd gotten Breakfast was made and everything got rather busy after that.

Sometimes Nick wondered if that's why Louis had pulled away, if it was some weird form of jealousy. Or it might be Henry's theory of "he just wasn't that into you". Either that or "not that gay"; as far as Nick knew, Louis wasn't out.

They had, of course, bumped into each other a few times since then and Louis had either been polite and distant or cutting and prickly. Which was pretty much how he was acting right now, just veering between the two.

Nick's first reaction when his boss came up to him and told him they wanted them to do World Cup commentary this time had almost been a flat-out "no". He agreed, once he had a minute to think about it, because, well, he didn't really have a good excuse to say no, besides being busier than last time. It was still a pretty good deal, and Nick didn't really like saying no to anything work-related. If he survived meal worms, he could survive a bit of potential awkwardness.

Still, Nick really hopes Louis will come off it after they get the first show out of the way, because it's sort of uncomfortable and doesn't really make for the best radio. It isn't the worst dynamic, but it's nowhere near the fun antagonistic one they had two years ago.

Louis is older now, though. He has a beard and all. Nick briefly considered being jealous because he doesn't have the patience to grow one. Louis's hair is long and messy, held back with a headband, and he has _tattoos_ now.

He seems less impressed with things, and currently comes off as almost _over_ everything. He does a small weekend show on his own with Niall as his producer, which Nick gathers is going well, at least. He hasn't listened much.

The problem, of course, is that Louis is still terribly fit. And Nick is maybe still a bit into him.

He'll only admit it to himself, of course, but, well. That's bad enough, isn't it.

Also he is pretty sure that Louis either doesn't give a shit about him or hates him. So. This is going to be fun.

~

"Oh my god."

"And Arjen Robben has just scored Holland's fifth goal, his second in this match," Louis says.

"Wow," Nick says. "That's a bit embarrassing, innit?"

"It's. Holland's fifth goal in this match against Spain," Louis says. Nick can tell he's trying not to laugh.

"It's a bit "you okay, hon?"" Nick says.

Louis bites his lip and Nick's waiting for the smile, but it doesn't come. "Xavi passes to Iniesta—and it's intercepted."

Nick frowns and turns to the texts. "Mark from Leicester says, "Holland waited four years for this, they are loving this." What does that mean?"

"They lost to Spain in the World Cup finals in 2010," Louis says, sounding tired. "Which is what I said at the beginning and have said several times since then. Which you would _know_ if you'd been paying any attention."

Nick widens his eyes. "Alright, stroppy."

Louis huffs and doesn't reply.

Nick breathes a literal sigh of relief when the game ends. He tries to exaggerate it for the radio, even. Louis glares at him.

"What?" Nick asks. "I was worried for the Spanish. Can you imagine how embarrassing 6-1 would have been?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "So, that's it for Spain vs Netherlands, and Spain really needs to step up their game if they want to win this group, or even go forward. They have that chance next Wednesday against Chile. Join us tomorrow night for England versus Italy."

"Bye!" Nick says cheerfully, with Niall joining in.

"Right," Louis says, after they fade down the mics and wrap things up. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Hey, wait," Nick says. "Finchy told me to that since you cancelled the phone-in last minute today you have to actually come in on Monday."

Louis stares at him. "Come in. On Monday morning."

"Bright and early. I don't make the rules, Finchy does."

Louis sighs and adjusts his headband. "Sure, yeah."

"I'm supposed to remind you again tomorrow," Nick says. "It'll be fun, you can come and do Tina's World Cup recap with her."

Louis's face softens a little at that, which is damn right, because everybody should love Tina.

Still, he says, "Maybe. If I'm not poorly or anything."

"Why would you be poorly?" Nick asks.

"You never know," Louis says.

"Stop being such a grouch," Niall says, clapping Louis on the shoulder, "and go and do some promo for the commentary. It's a good thing, yeah?"

"Right, sure," Louis says very unconvincingly. "Hey, see you tomorrow for lunch, yeah?"

"Sorry," Niall says. "I have plans with Bressie. Maybe you can drag Zayn out?"

"He's working on a project," Louis grumbles. "You know how he gets."

"Sorry, man," Niall says. "Another day for sure." He kisses Louis's cheek in apology, which Nick finds fascinating for some reason. Maybe because Louis seems so closed off and prickly right now, but Niall doesn't seem to care at all. It's a bit like Nick's relationship with Matt, only Louis never sounds annoyed with Niall. Then again, no one could be annoyed with Niall.

"Right," Louis says again, gently pushing Niall away. "See you back here then. Bye, Grimshaw."

"See you tomorrow, Tomlinson," Nick says, and doesn't watch Louis gather up his things and leave.

Tomorrow. England playing. Oh, Nick isn't looking forward to this.

~

The last match Nick and Louis commented on in the European Cup was the one where England lost spectacularly and were out of the tournament. Louis _cried_. It was pretty terrible.

Nick obviously pretended he didn't notice and Louis seemed pretty horrified about the whole thing. It was an all around awful experience.

Nick really doesn't want a repeat of that.

Or, fuck, maybe he does. He dragged Louis out with some of his friends after, kept Louis company while he got proper drunk. Even as a sad drunk, Louis was hilarious. And really fucking clingy, which usually bothered Nick, but when it was Louis he was strangely into it. He vividly remembers Louis hanging off of him and petulantly explaining to Henry why he was _wrong_ about football. Henry wasn't that fond of Louis, but even he had found that hilarious.

So maybe Nick would actually love a repeat of that night. Maybe he wants to see if Louis is just as funny and open and fucking _cute_ as he was back then, two years ago. If he still fits in right under Nick's arm.

Nick really needs to get a hold of himself.

He sometimes gets obsessed with people, yes, but he either gets over them fast or they become his friends. Louis doesn't fit into either category, and Nick is maybe freaking out about it, just a little.

"Maybe you just need to fuck him again to get him out of your system," Pixie suggests. Daisy nods and passes them both another cookie. They're having lunch out on Daisy's patio; it's one of the rare Saturdays when Nick doesn't have a ton of work to do.

Nick bites sadly into his cookie. He didn't plan on bringing it up, but Pixie pretty much dragged it out of him. His friends know him too well.

"Thing is," Nick says, chewing. "I'm not sure if that'll help?"

"Why not?" Daisy asks.

"That's usually how it works for you, love," Pixie points out.

"Yeah, but it's weird this time. I mean, it's been like, _two years_. What even is that?"

Pixie shrugs. "Maybe you just want to see if he's as good as last time. Curiosity."

"Maybe," Nick says. "I mean, he probably hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Daisy says.

"How do you know?"

"I listened to the show."

Nick turns to her. "You did?"

"You were worried about it," Daisy shrugs. "It went really well, though, love, it was great."

"Aw," Nick says, taking her hand. "You're the best, babe."

She smiles. "Anyway, I don't think he hates you. Remember how he laughed at your impression of Fincham?"

"That was Niall," Nick says.

"Oh. Well, either way."

"I don't know," Nick says, reaching for another cookie. "It was just, weird. Awkward. And he seemed so closed off and, like, passive aggressive, maybe? We used to have fun during these things."

"Before you fucked him," Pixie says.

Nick rolls his eyes. "Yes, before that."

"Well, sometimes that, uh, fucks things up," Pixie says.

"I'm aware, thanks," Nick says, then sighs. "Sorry. It's just, he seems different altogether? I mean, he's obviously older and that, but he seemed really off."

"Maybe," Daisy says slowly, "he was just having an off day? It's entirely possible, love. Maybe it wasn't about you at all. Not everything is about you, love."

"Maybe," Nick allows grudgingly. "I just. I don't know. Want to see him actually _smile_ , or something."

Daisy and Pixie exchange a look.

"What?" Nick asks.

"Smile?" Pixie asks. "You mean, like, laugh at your jokes?"

"Well, obviously I want him to laugh at my jokes," Nick says.

"Obviously," Pixie says.

Daisy wrinkles her nose. "I think this is a bit more than just 'fuck him to get it out of your system'. You like him, Grim, don't you?"

Nick thinks about it. He doesn't really want to think about it. He doesn't care, really. He doesn't care about Louis, or how Louis obviously dislikes him. Or how Nick still remembers things about Louis, stuff Louis's told him. Like how he had four sisters back home, absolutely loved his mum, and had had a hard time in the city at first.

Nick doesn't want to think about any of it. He only has three more shows to get through with Louis, and then they'll go back to not talking, so it won't matter anyway.

~

The "not caring" plan takes a serious hit that night when England loses to Italy.

Louis _cries_. Again.

Before Nick got to know Louis better, he thought Louis to be one of those guys who got really angry and sulky when their team loses. But Louis was a total crier. He apparently still _is_ a total crier. 

Nick is probably not supposed to find it endearing.

Louis is clearly trying to hide it; he looked dejected for the last part of the match, but he only started tearing up after it had ended and Nick had said goodbye to the listeners.

He is wiping his eyes, pointedly not looking in Nick's direction. He seems almost angry with himself.

Nick wants to _hug_ him. Everything is terrible.

Luckily Niall has it under control; he's rubbing Louis's back with a solemn look on his face. Nick isn't sure how that doesn't make Louis cry harder, but he's pretty sure they're all pretending Louis isn't crying, so he doesn't say anything.

Nick could probably go right now. It's one am on a Saturday and he's just gotten a text from Fiona, inviting him out with Aimee and Ian and the lot. Instead Nick's still in the studio, fiddling with his headphones, with his phone, with anything he can find.

Finally, Louis sniffles very, very quietly, and then laughs, that self-deprecating laugh Nick remembers well. Niall moves away from him and Nick feels like it's maybe okay to speak now.

"Hey, you guys want to go out?" he asks. "It's a couple of people from Radio 1 and my friends and such. Could get proper wasted."

"Yeah, great," Niall says right as Louis shakes his head.

"Can't, sorry," Louis says. "I have plans."

"No, you don't," Niall says.

"I do," Louis insists. "With Liam."

"Liam's in LA with Harry."

"Oh," Louis says. "Is he? Should have mentioned that."

Nick always forgets Niall and Louis know Harry too, through Liam.

He wonders how good a friend Louis is with Harry or if Nick's ever come up in their conversations. He's just curious about these things. He's sure he's whined to Harry about Louis in the past. He's whined to Harry about just about everything. Luckily Harry has to put up with it by being one of Nick's self-proclaimed best friends.

Niall sighs. "Lou, come on. We'll all go out, yeah? You can try to drink me under the table again."

"Aw," Nick says. "Friendship."

Shockingly, Louis cracks a smile at that. Nick does not feel proud of himself. At all.

"Maybe some other time," Louis says. "I'm knackered, really. Sorry."

"Well, I'll come," Niall says. Louis looks momentarily displeased at that, but then he just looks sad again. Man, sports fuck people up.

"Well," Nick says. "Sorry about, you know." He waves his hand.

Louis stares at him for a moment before he nods and says, "Thanks," polite as anything. He was less mean during the show today, too. Nick's hopeful the remaining two will be fine as well. He hates an awkward show, it makes him all panicky.

"Right then, Niall," Nick says, throwing on his jacket. "Let's go and be laddy. Beers, wahey."

Niall laughs cheerfully. Nick appreciates him.

"And you," Nick says, pointing at Louis. "We still expect you to be on the show on Monday."

Louis sighs at that. "Fine. Fine, okay."

"Excellent," Nick says. "Well, bye, then."

The night turns out _great_ , really. Ian and Aimee immediately adopt Niall, and Nick gets drunk and ends up dancing with Alexa, and he doesn't at all wish that Louis had come out, too. Not once.

~

Monday morning is a bit of a scramble. Louis's not answering his phone and by the time they get in touch with Niall, Matt looks like he's about to throw a proper fit.

Apparently Louis has a "bit of a family emergency", but he'll be okay for a phoner after nine. Matt looks appeased by that, at least. Of course it could just be that he's gotten a chance to speak with Niall. Nick likes to tease Matt about having a professional crush on Niall.

"That was Jess Glynne there with "Right Here"," says Nick. "Sounding _good_ this Monday morning. Someone who's having a good Monday morning is Matt Fincham—"

"Nick," Matt cuts in, warningly. 

"As he's just had the pleasure of speaking to little Niall Horan, a fellow producer here at Radio One."

"Please," Matt says.

"What?" Nick asks. "I think it's sweet. Isn't it, Fiona?"

"I think it's great," Fiona says, god bless her. "Matt getting all flustered."

"What—oh, shut up, you two."

Nick grins. He loves teasing Matt. Lives for it, really. "We just want you to know we support you, Finchy."

"Listen," Matt says. "You have no leg to stand on here, okay."

Nick pauses. "Why?"

"You know why, Matt says. "Now play a trail."

Nick huffs and puts a trail on. He wants to ask what Matt is on about, but it feels like it'll be safer to just let it go.

He plays Sia after the trail, then teases the upcoming call with Louis and goes to the news.

By the time they actually get to Louis, they've lost the plot a bit. Showbot teased Ian about Harry, who was pictured at the beach in LA with Liam Payne, his producer slash secret boyfriend, and Nick literally wasn't able to stop laughing for a good minute.

He has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to stop himself from losing it again. Right. He can be professional. The reminder that Louis is not here and is late with the call because of a family emergency of some sort is enough to get Nick to sober up fast.

Then again, it can't be that bad if Louis is still calling in. He doesn't sound bad when Matt gets him on the line either.

"Right," Nick says. "It's five minutes past nine, we've got Happy Monday coming up for you in just twenty-five minutes, but now it's time to speak to this man."

He puts on a montage of clips that Fiona and Matt have done of Louis's best reactions to goals in the European Cup. It all tops off with Louis shouting excitedly while Nick monotones with a, "Wow, I think something exciting just happened." 

It's pretty good. It really puts into perspective, though, how subdued and cagey Louis was during the first match this time. Nick's really glad he seems to to have gotten over whatever was bothering him.

Louis is laughing by the time the clip finishes. Nick smiles.

"That's a bit embarrassing, innit?" Louis asks.

"It's very sporty," Nick says. "Very shouty too, very proper commentator."

"Aw," Louis says. "Thanks. I was actually talking about you, though."

Nick laughs. "Yeah, what was that bit?"

"I think it was a penalty, mate," Louis says.

"Blah," Nick says. "Bit unfair those, aren't they."

"Well," Louis starts, but Nick cuts him off before he can go on some boring rant.

"Anyway, morning, Louis! How are you?"

"I'm good, yeah," Louis says. "How are you?"

"I'm good, me, good. Actually I'm a bit sad."

"Why?" Louis asks, actually sounding proper concerned.

"Because we only have two more football matches to comment on!"

"Oh," Louis says. "Oh, yeah, that is a shame, isn't it?"

"Terrible," Nick says. "If you don't know then I've been doing a spot of football commentating with our very own Louis Tomlinson here. He knows everything about football, I know everything about football players. And WAGs."

"You really don't," Louis says.

"No, I do!" Nick insists.

"You don't even know the players' names!"

"Well, I don't need to, do I?" Nick says. "'S what I got you for. Actually, why _did_ I get asked to do this again, Finchy?"

"I think that's the draw," Matt says. "That you don't really know much."

"Yeah, great logic there," Nick laughs. "Come listen to some idiot, who doesn't know nothing about your beloved sport."

"You know enough," Louis says. "You even know the offside rule." Nick suddenly feels like he's back in 2012. Louis is being actually _nice_ and supportive and the lot. It's giving him whiplash.

"The offside rule is easy, really, innit?" Nick asks. "They just pretend it's hard."

"Well, it has some finer points, but—"

"But yeah," Nick says. "It's not that hard, don't hang out by the goal and you'll be fine!"

He can hear Louis chuckle over the line. He feels odd. Like, warm inside because he always loves getting a positive reaction out of people, but also _odd_. Because Louis. Christ.

"Anyway, it hasn't all been good times," Nick says. "Because sadly, we lost on Saturday."

"Yeah," Louis says, "that was really disappointing. But I think we can still bounce back from that, hopefully."

"We didn't play that badly, did we?" Nick asks. "I don't think we did."

"No, I think we played really well, actually. I think we can do this."

"And when's our next match, please, Louis? You'll know that off the top of your head, won't you?"

"This Thursday at eight," Louis says. "Against Uruguay."

"But we won't be commentating on that, right?"

"No, we're doing Italy versus Costa Rica on Friday, who are both in the same group as England. That one starts at five in the afternoon. We can't do the England match, because it ends too late. For you."

"Well, yes, it _is_ a Thursday," Nick says. "And it doesn't end till ten and I need to be in bed by ten, really."

"Of course," Louis says.

"I need my beauty sleep!"

Louis hums. "Do you, really?"

Nick raises his eyebrows. "Well—"

Louis interrupts him. "The England — Italy match ended at one on Saturday, though, that _was_ pretty late."

"It did, I haven't been on that late since—probably nighttime? Is that right, Finchy?"

Matt shrugs. "Well, it was the weekend," he says.

"Oh, I've been _up_ at that time," Nick says. "Obviously. Just not on the radio. It was sort of nice, really. Got to sleep in late that morning and on Sunday so didn't really matter."

"Lucky," Louis says, "I had to get up early on Sunday."

"Up early on Sunday?" Nick asks. "That's inhumane!"

"This is a fascinating conversation," Matt says.

"Oi, the listeners love this. Everyone can relate to this, makes it feel like they're a part of something."

"Not sure they want to be a part of this," Matt mumbles. If Nick was closer he'd swat his arm. He motions to Ian instead who just waggles his eyebrows in turn. Ugh.

"Anyway," Nick says loudly. "Tune in again Friday night on the Red Button for a bit of ye olde football. Hopefully it'll be a good one. Thanks for calling in, Louis, see you on Friday!"

"Bye," Louis says, just before Nick fades him down and motions for Ian to keep him on the line.

"Hey," Nick says when they've got a song on. "Good call."

"Yeah, it was fun," Louis says. There's a beat and Nick's about to interrupt, but then Louis says. "I really am sorry about not coming in this time. Things were a bit rough."

"It's fine, you picked up the phone and all," Nick says. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Niall filled us in. Everything okay with your family?"

"Yeah, yeah," Louis says. "My sister broke her wrist and mum couldn't get out of work. And she had to look after the twins, and Fizzy was on a school trip, so she couldn't help out, and it was all just a right mess. All good now, though, and I'll be back by Friday."

"Good," Nick says. "I mean that everything's okay, not—well, it's good you'll be back for the show, of course, I'd probably be gutted alive if I tried to do it on my own."

Louis laughs. "Nah, I think it'd be funny."

"Of course," Nick says. "Me being gutted alive would be hilarious."

Louis hums. "Maybe not that part."

"Right," Nick says. He feels a bit awkward and itchy for some reason. Also he's going to be late for the next link if he doesn't hang up soon. "Anyway, I have a link to do soon and all, so—"

"Oh, shit, yeah," Louis says. "Bye."

"Give my best to—Lottie, right?"

There's a pause. "How do you remember her name?"

"You had her and Fizzy over once, didn't you?" Nick asks. "I think we bumped into each other when you were having lunch or summat." Nick doesn't say, "You know, before we fucked and stopped talking to each other." He's not sure if he could pick Louis's sisters out of a lineup, but he talked about them enough for Nick to remember the names, apparently. "Am I remembering that wrong?"

"That's—no," Louis starts. "I mean, yeah, I will. Thanks. Uh, bye."

He's hung up before Nick gets the chance to say anything else. Awkward.

"Nick, five seconds," Matt warns him.

"Oh, god," Nick says, and pulls the mic closer to him. "Little bit of Lana Del Rey there, and before that "Satisfy" by Nero. _Love_ that record."

~

Louis looks fine before the show on Friday, and says his sister is doing well. He's proper mopey after, though, because Italy losing apparently means England's out, no chance now.

So Nick throws his arm around Niall's shoulder, points at Louis, and says, "We're going out."

Louis sighs. "Nick."

"Come on," Nick says. "No point in sulking. One of my friends is DJing at this new club tonight, let's go."

"Awesome," Niall says. "We going right now?"

"Yes," Nick says. "Wait, I need to stop by my friend's, let's meet up there."

He leaves them with the name of the club and a direct order to Niall to drag Louis with him. He thinks Niall winks at him before he leaves, but he doesn't really want to ponder on that. Niall should mind his own business.

By the time they find each other again in the club, Nick is three drinks in and has tried to take on Aimee in a dance battle. He spots Louis by the bar, trying to get up on a high chair while holding onto his beer. It is the funniest thing Nick has ever seen. Ever this week. Ever today, definitely.

"Need help?" Nick asks.

Louis jerks and spills a bit of beer on him. He's wearing the same clothes as earlier, hair still held back with a headband, though it's mostly falling out now. He curses and glares at Nick.

"Oops," Nick grins. Maybe he's had more than three drinks.

"I've got it, thanks," Louis says, voice biting.

"Aw, don't be mean," Nick says. "I'm here to help."

Louis has managed to get himself situated, almost on eye level with Nick. He's still glaring a bit, but Nick ignores it.

"Having a good time?"

"Well, I was," Louis grumps. Nick rolls his eyes. "Music isn't too bad, at least."

Nick raises his eyebrows. "High praise."

Louis shrugs. "Whatever. Thanks for the invite and everything."

"Not a problem," Nick says.

"I mean, I'd rather be getting pissed in my own home, but this isn't too bad."

"Not much for going out these days?" Nick asks, half curious half teasing.

"Maybe," Louis says, narrowing his eyes. "So what?"

"Nothing?" Nick asks. "Was just wondering, god."

Louis taps his fingers against the beer glass. "Maybe I'm getting old and tired. Like you." He grins suddenly, though, taking the burn out of one of their usual disses and Nick can't stop himself from snorting.

"Cute," he says. "Very original."

Louis shrugs, expression smug, reminding Nick so much of the Louis he knew back that summer.

"Hey," Nick says. "Uh. Are you okay, though?"

He's not sure why he's asking, really, except it feels like he should. He's not even sure if he cares that much about the answer. (A little. Maybe.) He's already bracing himself for Louis biting his head off for it.

Louis stares at him for a moment before sighing dramatically. "I lost Niall," he says. "He abandoned me."

"He's probably with Aimee and Ian."

"Oh," Louis says. "Have I met Aimee?"

"Think so. Gorgeous, blonde, American?"

"Oh, yeah," Louis says. He takes a swig of his beer. His eyes are strangely alert when he focuses them on Nick. "That was a while back."

Nick hums. "Probably, yeah." Probably around the time they hooked up, really. Nick's not drunk enough for that conversation, though.

"I'm fine," Louis says, out of nowhere.

Nick blinks.

"You asked," Louis says, sounding defensive.

"I did," Nick assures him. "I definitely did."

"Okay," Louis says. "Well, I'm fine. Bit gutted about the Cup. I'm not nearly as drunk as I want to be, and Niall said we'd drink together and then I lost him. But, fine."

"Oh," Nick says awkwardly. "Good, then."

Louis gives him a searching look. Nick keeps his face blank; he doesn't know what Louis is looking for and it's too dark to read his expression properly. Nick hates it when he can't read people.

"Sorry," Louis says.

Nick blinks. "What for?"

"The way I've been." Louis shrugs. "A bit of a wanker. You must have hated doing the show with me."

Nick shrugs, and scratches at the back of his neck. "It's been okay."

Louis rolls his eyes. "I was shit to you at the start and I'm trying to _apologise_ , god. Now say you accept my apology so I can stop feeling guilty."

Nick chuckles. "I don't think that's how it works, Tomlinson."

Louis's face shutters and he looks away, staring down at his pint again.

"You're supposed to apologise to make someone else feel better, not yourself," Nick says wisely. Daisy has taught him well.

"Well," Louis says. "Can't I do it for both?"

"I suppose," Nick allows. "Anyway, it's fine. I mean. The first show was sort of awkward," he says, laughing a little. "Sort of thought you hated me, really. But it was fine after that, I thought."

"Oh," Louis says. "Well. You know, I didn't mean to—like—" He cuts off with a frustrated little growl and rubs at his forehead. "God, I hate apologising."

Nick laughs again. "Really? Never would have guessed it. I'm shocked and appalled."

Louis sighs. "Whatever. I'm going to find Niall. He has more drinks."

"Have fun."

Louis gives Nick a mocking salute and slides off the chair. He stumbles a little and Nick reaches out to steady him, fingers curling around Louis's elbow.

There's a moment before Louis pulls away, and leaves. Nick stares after him as he disappears in the crowd.

He orders a drink and heads back to the Aimee. He's _definitely_ fucked.

He finds Louis again right before he and Aimee are about to leave. Louis's is draped across Niall's back, laughing happily into his neck. It makes Nick feel odd inside.

That could just be the alcohol, though. He ignores it and walks up to them, catching Niall by the arm and pointing at Louis. "You," he says, as sternly as he can manage right now, "are coming on the show on Monday."

Louis just grins at him in response, eyes wide and a bit blurry. "What?"

"Show," Nick says. "Breakfast Show on Monday. You have to come. Niall, you'll make sure he comes, right?"

Niall snorts at that and starts fully laughing. It's so infectious Nick has to let go of him and cling to Aimee to not fall down. Christ, he's pissed. Louis is trying to cover his mouth, giggling helplessly. Nick has to get out of here before he does something drastic. He's way too drunk to be this fond, it's dangerous.

"No, but you have to come on the show," Nick says once they've mostly calmed down. "You have to come. Promise."

"Why?" Louis asks. "I've already done a phoner."

"Because," Nick says.

"Strong argument, Grim," Aimee says.

Nick pushes at her shoulder, then tugs her in for a hug. "Shut up, god, I wasn't finished. _Because_ it will be great. And you promised to come in, okay, a phoner doesn't count. We'll put the cameras on, show everyone our pretty faces, get everyone to listen to the commentary on Tuesday, because you know no one will otherwise since we're out anyway. We need to do something special. Are people even going to watch, do you think?"

"Of course people will watch," Louis says, affronted. "England's playing!"

Nick waves his hand. "Yeah, yeah. But it'll all be a bit pointless, won't it?"

"It's not pointless," Louis says, poking Nick in the chest. He's moved closer without Nick realising it. "It's our last chance to win a match this tournament, and potentially the last chance for some of the players to play at—"

Nick catches Louis's hand to stop him from poking at his chest. Louis looks surprised by it. "That's great," Nick says. "That's exactly what you're going to come in and say on Monday."

"But," Louis says, frowning. Nick's still got a hold of his hand. He lets go hastily and wraps it around Aimee's shoulders instead. Aimee raises her eyebrows, clearly amused. Nick frowns. Aimee needs to mind her own business. 

"I'll see you Monday," Nick says brightly. He points at Niall again. "I'm counting on you."

Niall grins at him, eyes way too clear and knowing. Nick hates them all. "He'll be there," he says. "Get home safe, yeah." He gives Aimee a hug and a cheek kiss and then does the same to Nick.

Nick spares Louis one more glance before waving at the group and calling out a general, "Bye", and dragging Aimee with him. 

He's very proud of himself for managing to not look back.

~

"Now what we need to talk about," Nick says, "is the football. The World Cup is still going on in Brazil, it is _not_ over yet, it's barely begun, has it?"

"The group stage is almost over," Louis says.

"Oh, is it?" Nick asks. "When is that over?"

"Uh, the last matches are this Thursday."

"Oh, good," Nick says. "Obviously, that doesn't matter to us anymore, because we're out of the cup!"

Louis glares at him. He stumbled into the studio this morning five minutes before he was scheduled to come on air, bleary-eyed and clutching a cup of tea—"No drinking in the studio!" Matt said, aghast—but he's still got it in him to glare at Nick.

"And this morning, we have Louis Tomlinson here to talk about it! You can watch us online, the cameras are _on_."

"Why are the cameras on?" Louis asks.

"I'm not sure, actually," Nick says, turning to Matt. "Why did we put the cameras on?"

"To show everyone your beautiful faces," Matt says. "That's what Fiona said."

"Oh, did she?" Nick asks, and raises his eyebrows at the camera. "How lovely of her." He catches Louis rolling his eyes.

Louis doesn't exactly look camera ready, but he doesn't look _bad_ , either. He's wearing his usual soft headband, but he's shaved, looking weirdly fresh-faced, even though he's obviously ready to go back to sleep any second.

"Actually," Matt says. "That's what Fiona said _you_ said."

Nick huffs. "Obviously doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Obviously not," Matt agrees.

Louis coughs, throwing a look at the cameras. "Uh. Football?"

"Of course!" Nick says. "So, what happened, then, why are we out? We had a thirteen percent chance after our last game, right?"

"Twelve point nine," Louis says. "If Italy would have won."

"So, really, it wasn't going to happen anyway, would it?"

Louis pulls a face. "Not—not really. And Italy lost on Friday."

"Which we commented on!" Nick says.

"I feel like you should maybe tell the people about that," Matt says. "If they haven't been listening."

"Oh, of course," Nick says. "So, basically, in case you've missed this, or if you missed last Monday when Louis called in and we talked about this, we've been doing a spot of football commenting, which you can listen to on the Red Button. And tomorrow's our final one."

Louis nods. "Tomorrow's England's final game in the group. And, well, their last game."

"So we thought we'd get Louis in here to talk a bit about it, to let you all know you can listen in tomorrow if you want, just basically a bit of promo. I think I even offered you could do the World Cup update with Tina!"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Louis says, smiling slightly. "She's got it down so well, I'd just be in the way."

"She's very protective of those," Matt says. "You can't interrupt her."

"Of course you can't interrupt her," Nick says, "otherwise it wouldn't be sixty seconds."

"No, that's what I mean!" Matt says.

Louis is watching them with his mouth quirked and eyebrow raised.

"What?" Nick asks him. "What's with the face?"

"Just curious to see how people are with their producers," Louis says.

"Oh, right, you have Niall Horan, who's also helping us on the football," Nick says. "Lucky, eh?" He directs that at Matt.

"I do," Louis says. "I'm not sure how he puts up with me. But, no offence, he's a lot more laid back than Fincham."

"I'm laid back," Matt says, and Nick bursts out laughing. "Oh, shut up."

"No, you work well together, though," Louis says.

"We are pretty close," Nick says. "Not sure if we can beat you and Niall, of course."

"Well, he did get me up and out of bed this morning."

"Oooh," Nick calls. "Exclusive."

"Oh, shut up," Louis says. "He's my flatmate."

Nick knows that, obviously, but he's always up for a spot of teasing. He grins and plays the "uh huh, honey," clip.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Can we talk about tomorrow's game?"

"Oh, yes," Nick says. "I think we should try to lose."

Louis pauses. "Why?"

"Well, we were talking with Tina about this earlier. It'd be a nice fact, won't it? Lost three times for the first time, right?"

"I—"

"And then next time, it can't be worse!"

Louis stares at him. Nick smiles. Louis keeps staring.

"I think they should have a laugh," Nick continues. "Put Rooney in goal or summat."

Louis growls. Literally, actually growls. Nick can't help it, he starts laughing.

"Oh my god," Nick wheezes. "You're _ridiculous_."

"Stop trying to wind me up." Louis frowns. "Put Rooney in goal, honestly."

"It'd be funny!" Nick says. "Quick, picture it."

Louis's expression goes blank for a moment and then his mouth is twisting and Nick's won, he knows he has.

"Yes," Nick says, gleefully. "You agree with me, right, Finchy?"

"Well," Matt says. "It'd certainly be, uh. Different."

"Seriously, go all out," Nick says. "Can't be worse next time, then."

"Next time we could not qualify at all!" Louis says, throwing up his hands.

Nick scoffs. "That's years away. Don't need to worry about that now."

"Four years," Louis says. "It's four years and the matches for it start next year already."

Nick waves his hand. "Ages away. Are you supporting anyone after England? Going to join Niall in worshipping Neymar?"

"Maybe," Louis says. "Neymar is _really_ good. There are a lot of good teams out there. I think I'm just going to see how it goes."

"Isn't that cheating?" Nick asks. 

"Nah," Louis says. "I mean, I like a lot of the teams, but England is my number one, of course. I think we played well, I do. It's a shame it ended this way, but I don't think we were awful or anything."

"Better than Spain, at least, right?"

Louis grins. "Yeah."

Nick stares at him for maybe a moment too long before turning to the screens. "Let's have a couple of texts here, oh, here's a nice one. "I'm terrible at watching football, but you guys make it fun," from Sam in Norwich. That's lovely, thank you."

"Cheers," Louis says.

"Hmm," Nick says. ""Nick, you're crap at football, you need to let Tommo talk more. He knows his stuff, good lad.""

He looks up, expecting Louis to look pleased, but Louis's frowning instead. "That's not a very nice one, now is it?"

"They're very nice to you," Nick points out.

Louis shrugs. "I just think it's a team effort. I talk plenty, you're really good at not interrupting me if something important is happening. And it's not like we're doing professional commentary, really."

"Ah, of course we are," Nick says. "Top notch, really."

Louis rolls his eyes, but he's smiling again. "Yeah, yeah. Any more fun texts? I had to get up way too early for this."

"Oh, we have a quiz we're doing after the news, actually," Nick says. "Courtesy of Matthew Fincham."

Louis narrows his eyes. "A quiz?"

"Just a football quiz," Nick assures him. He abruptly remembers Louis once telling him that he absolutely hates looking stupid in front of people. "It'll be fun." 

"Right," Louis says, fiddling idly with his headphones. "Okay, cool."

Nick grins at him and turns back to the texts.

~

Louis has styled his hair for the England game. Like, no headband in sight, hair a carefully arranged mess. There's just a bit of stubble on his face. God.

Nick points at the hair. "Is that, like, a last hurrah?"

"What?" Louis asks. His hand immediately goes up to fix his fringe. It's strangely endearing. "Does it look off?"

"No, no, it looks good," Nick reassures him.

Louis lowers his hand but he still looks suspicious.

"I just meant—never mind."

Louis huffs and turns to the screen, scrolling through the texts. There's not much there, the show hasn't even started yet. "Niall said we were going out after," Louis says eventually. "Since it's the last game we're doing and all."

Nick looks over at Niall, surprised. He's pretty sure he hasn't heard anything about this. It's not a bad idea, though. He was originally planning on taking it a bit easier this week in preparation for Glastonbury on the weekend, but screw that. Louis will probably fall right off his radar again after this is over.

"Oh, cool," he says.

"You're coming too, Nick, right?" Niall asks. "I ran into Annie, we're all going to the same place."

"Oh, Annie's coming too?" Nick asks. "Awesome. Yeah, of course I'll be there."

"No other plans?" Louis asks.

"No," Nick says. "Totally free tonight."

Louis nods in response, but doesn't say anything. He fixes his fringe again. Right, then.

The game is such a bore. It's absolutely terrible; _nothing_ happens, and Louis is glued to practically every minute. Nick takes it upon himself to chat with Niall and keep them all (the listeners, but especially himself) from slipping into an actual coma.

At least England doesn't lose. They don't win, but they also don't _lose_ , which means the drinks tonight will be celebratory, if Nick has anything to say about it.

The show ends around seven so they head out to a pub to have a couple of drinks, somehow picking up Matt and Lizzie along the way. Nick has a lovely time trying to tease Matt about his professional crush on Niall as subtly as he can. He's not very successful at it, but it's great fun.

They end up at a club eventually, where Nick claims Annie Mac for himself, and they go to check out who's in charge of the music.

It's late when Nick comes across Louis sitting at the bar by himself, nursing a beer. Louis looks slightly lost, and he keeps brushing his hair away from his face and frowning.

"Did Niall abandon you again?" Nick asks, walking up to him.

Louis looks up at him, surprised. "No. No, I just needed a minute." He shrugs, that self-deprecating look on his face. "They're over there, we can go join them." He points at the far end of the club. "Where did you disappear off to?"

"Just with Annie," Nick says.

"Making the rounds?" Louis asks. "Looking to pull tonight?"

Nick raises his eyebrows. "Maybe? Was thinking about it."

Louis hums.

"You?" Nick asks. "It's weird seeing you out here alone, honest."

"Is it?" Louis asks.

"Well, yeah," Nick says. "Shouldn't you be celebrating? We didn't lose, wahey, lads!" Honestly, he's a bit worried, finding Louis by himself again, second time in a row. Does he need a hug or something? Nick's not that great with hugs.

Louis laughs. "Yeah, okay. Come on, let's go find Niall, he's in a very "lads" mood." He jumps down from his chair and Nick automatically slips an arm around his shoulders, not thinking about it. The club is crowded. Louis is short enough to get lost if Nick doesn't keep a hold on him. It's science.

A crowd of people rushes past them then and someone bumps into Louis, making him spill his beer on Nick's shirt.

"Shit," Louis says, eyes going wide. "Shit, sorry. Hey, watch it, mate," he calls after the guy, who's probably already halfway across the club.

"It's fine," Nick says, pulling the shirt away from his stomach. It's a regular grey t-shirt, nothing to cry over. Just a bit wet and gross.

He looks back up to see that Louis is staring somewhere in the direction of his chest. Nick lets go of the shirt and tries to wipe his fingers clean against his sides. They're a bit sticky, still, so he raises them to his mouth. Louis's eyes are tracking his movement. His gaze stops on Nick's mouth for a moment before he looks away. His cheeks are flushed, but that could just be the heat.

"So—" Nick starts.

"You should probably take it off," Louis says.

Nick pauses. "What?"

"The shirt," Louis says. "It's going to smell. We should maybe go to the bathroom to clean it. Or at least wring it out or summat."

"It's not that wet," Nick says, frowning.

Louis throws the last of his beer at him.

Nick gapes.

"Oops," Louis says, mouth twitching. "My hand slipped." He gives his empty glass to a completely random passerby and gives Nick an expectant look.

"Right," Nick says slowly. "I should better get cleaned up, then."

It should be ridiculous—it _is_ ridiculous, like something out of porn, maybe, and there's no way Nick's getting his shirt off here anyway—but, well. The way Louis is looking at him makes Nick's stomach go tight.

He shakes his head and turns, heading for the toilets. His shirt is clinging to his skin and the waist of his jeans, and he's suddenly wondering where he left his coat, and Louis is not even _saying_ anything, just quietly following him.

"Hey," Nick says, glancing back. "Is it just me or is this a tad awkward?"

He doesn't get a proper answer. What he gets is Louis crowding him against the wall next to the toilets and kissing him.

Nick makes a surprised sort of noise, grabs onto Louis's hips and kisses him back.

They're half in darkness, in the little corridor near the toilets, and Louis is _going_ for it. His hand is in Nick's hair, holding on as he keeps kissing him like he's afraid to pull away. It's fine; Nick doesn't particularly want him to.

Louis does pull back eventually, with a gasp, eyes wide. "I," he says, breathing hard. "I—"

"Christ," Nick says, and digs his fingers into the flesh on Louis's hips. "Come back here."

Louis blinks at him for a moment, and Nick swears he catches the start of a smile before Louis is surging up and claiming Nick's mouth again.

Nick's not entirely sure how long they stay there, snogging next to the toilets. He thinks people pass them at some point, but Louis is _excellent_ at keeping Nick's attention on him.

The thing is, Nick sees a few options. They can keep kissing here until they get tired of it and then drift back into the crowd in the club, go back to their friends. They can probably get off in the toilets together, and isn't _that_ a great memory. Or maybe Nick can steer them in another direction.

Nick really doesn't want to end the night here.

"Hey," he says, tightening his hold on Louis's waist. "Come back to mine?"

Louis pauses in where he's sucking what will probably be an impressive lovebite onto the skin at the base of Nick's neck. His breathing is shallow and one of his hands is clutching Nick's arm so hard it's almost painful. He's on his tiptoes, trembling a little against Nick from the exertion. God, Nick really doesn't want him to say no.

"Louis?"

"Yeah," Louis says softly. "Okay."

Nick's not entirely sure how they make it back to his. He has to find his jacket, because his keys are in there, and along the way they have a few more drinks, at Niall and Annie's insistence. Things get slightly blurrier after that.

He remembers smoking while waiting for the cab, Louis stealing his cigarette and refusing to give it back. He remembers Beyonce's "Crazy In Love" coming on in the cab, remembers singing along to it. Remembers Louis trying to muffle him, but laughing too hard to do much, just shaking next to Nick. Nick's pretty sure they got thrown out of the cab at that point.

He's very aware of this moment right here, though. The long walk back to his place from wherever it was the cabbie dropped them off helped him sober up enough to be able to focus right now. To appreciate the way Louis is trying to get his jeans off, cursing.

"Need help?" Nick asks.

"No," Louis say, huffing.

"Okay," Nick says. "I'll just watch then. Good view."

Louis fixes him with a glare. Nick laughs. God, he feels good right now.

"You know it's dangerous to wear such skinny jeans?" Nick asks.

Louis shoots a pointed look at Nick's own jeans. "Let's see you get out of those, then."

Nick snorts and goes to work on getting undressed. He manages in what he'd like to say is record time. Louis smirks at him. Nick automatically sucks his stomach in and stands a little taller, but Louis seems appreciative, his eyes roaming over Nick's body.

Nick pulls him in by his belt loops and kisses the smirk off his face, hands working on tugging Louis's jeans down.

"See the thing is," he says between kisses, "I might have great legs, but my thighs aren't nearly as lovely as yours."

"Shut up," Louis grumbles.

"It's an honest compliment," Nick says, and means it completely.

"Whatever," Louis says. "Get these off, then."

"Thought you didn't need my help?"

"Oh my god, shut up," Louis says. Nick grins and pulls his jeans down, watches as Louis steps out of them and throws them somewhere to the side. Louis is still wearing a shirt for some reason, which Nick thinks is just wrong. He reaches for it and Louis lifts his arms immediately, letting Nick take it off.

Fucking _finally_. Nick trails his hands down Louis's body. He only remembers seeing Louis shirtless once, after he was soaked from Innuendo Bingo. 

These are much more pleasant circumstances. He remembers Louis's soft belly and is delighted to see that even though he's a bit more toned, he hasn't lost it. He presses a hand to it and kisses Louis again, teasing.

"Fuck," Louis says, lifting up on his toes, trying to match Nick's height. He's not going to manage, so Nick has no idea why he keeps trying. "Can we, like—Nick."

"Come on," Nick says, gently pushing down on Louis's shoulder. "Bed."

Louis scrambles up on the bed and stretches out on his back, staring up at Nick, expectant. Nick takes a moment to just look at him. His hair's a mess that he has to keep brushing away from his eyes, his face and chest is flushed, his stomach heaving. He looks slightly more nervous when Nick doesn't make a move.

"Nick?"

Nick shakes himself out of it and gets on the bed as well, rests his hands on Louis's thighs. "You good?"

"Yes," Louis says, sounding petulant. "You going to do anything?"

"Thought I'd blow you," Nick says conversationally. Louis goes even more red.

"Oh," he says. "Oh, I thought—I mean, I wanted to do that."

Nick grins. "You still can. Obviously."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Okay, just, get on with it."

"Wow," Nick says. "Charming. You must want me really bad."

Louis lets out a frustrated groan and sits up to smash his mouth against Nick in a hard, biting kiss. "I fucking _want_ you, okay, now get the fuck on with it."

Nick doesn't let him pull back; he fists his hand in Louis's hair and holds him there, kissing him until Louis starts making little noises. His other hand is on Louis's crotch now, teasing. Honestly, he sort of wants Louis to beg. He wonders if Louis might.

"Fuck," Louis says. "Fuck, fuck, Nick, let me blow you."

Nick pulls back abruptly, surprised, and Louis lets out a disappointed groan. "Uh," Nick says. "Shit, yes, obviously."

They switch positions so fast that Nick accidentally kicks Louis in the side. He tries to apologise, but Louis is faster and retaliates by pinching the fleshy side of his stomach.

Nick flinches away, looking to the side, because painful, and also gross, but Louis is already on him, kissing him, his hand smoothing over the spot.

"Gonna blow you now," he announces, pulling back, and Nick laughs because of how grand he sounds. "Shut up," Louis says.

"Get on with it, then," Nick says. "You haven't even got my pants off yet."

Louis takes it as a challenge, just as Nick hoped. He's completely naked in a matter of seconds, and then Louis bends down and takes his cock in his mouth.

Fuck, Louis is _good_ at this. Nick remembers him being pretty good the last time, but it's better now, here, in Nick's bedroom. Louis's enthusiastic, too, which gives him, like, half the points already, and Nick's almost getting off on how obviously Louis _wants_ to do this as much as he is on the actual blowjob.

"Fuck," Nick says. "Fuck, Louis, that's good."

Louis pulls off for a moment and just grins at Nick, wide and happy. His lips are pink and lush. "I fucking know." Then he goes back to blowing Nick.

Nick huffs out a laugh, feeling completely ridiculous and so light.

Louis pulls off again right when Nick starts to feel like he's getting there. "Hey," Nick says, disappointed, and flaps his hand at him. "Where are you going?"

"Fuck," Louis says, and then he's straddling Nick, kissing him like he physically can't stop. Nick wraps an arm around his waist and flips him over, trapping Louis underneath him. Fuck, he looks gorgeous on Nick's bed. 

Louis makes this fucking _keening_ noise and bucks up, his body shaking. His hands are resting on the bed, not even reaching for Nick, and Nick covers one of Louis's wrists with his hand and kisses him and kisses him. He really wants to come. He really wants to keep kissing Louis. A terrible conundrum. 

"Nick," Louis says, pushing against his shoulder. "Nick. Nick."

"What?" Nick asks, and pulls away.

Louis is staring right at him, face flushed and his expression determined. "Nick. I want you to fuck me."

All the breath goes out of Nick's lungs. "Fuck, Lou, I don't think I'm going to last."

"Don't care," Louis says. "Just, please, fuck. I'll get myself ready, just. Fuck."

"Eloquent," Nick says, feeling dazed.

"Oh my god, do you ever stop?" Louis asks. "Where do you keep the lube?"

"Hold on, hold on." There's no way Nick's letting Louis prep himself, he wants to fucking do it. "Just, stay there." He quickly gets the lube and condoms out of his bedside drawer, and shuffles back over to Louis. Louis reaches out for the lube, but Nick pushes his hand away.

"I can—" Louis starts.

"So can I," Nick says. "Unless you mind?"

Louis stares at him for a beat. "I really want your fingers in my arse."

Nick groans at that. "Jesus, you can't just fucking say stuff like that."

"Just did," Louis says, spreading his legs. "Go on, then."

Nick almost chokes on his own spit and has to cough and cough to get his breath back. Fucking _embarrassing_.

Louis laughs at him, but rubs his back until Nick stops coughing. "Oh my god," Nick wheezes out. "You're going to kill me."

"I'm honoured," Louis says. "Now please fuck me."

"Well, since you're asking nicely," Nick says. He lubes up his fingers and looks over at Louis. "You're not, like, drunk right now, are you? Because you don't look drunk."

Louis frowns. "No? What?"

"Just checking," Nick says, and positions himself so he'll have a good angle. It takes a bit of work to get it just right, and Nick gets slightly distracted by how fucking fit Louis's arse is, but soon enough he's got Louis writhing on his bed, tight around Nick's fingers.

"Fuck," Louis says, breathless. "Fuck, why are you so fit? You're so hot, fucking can't stop thinking about you."

Nick's stomach goes tight, and he almost comes right then. "God, I really need to fuck you right now, Lou."

"Do it," Louis says. "Come on, seriously, just do it already."

"Wait, wait," Nick says. "Hold the fuck on." He gets the condom on with slightly shaky fingers and slicks himself up. He feels like he's been hard _forever_ , fuck, ridiculous.

"Don't you dare come before you get it in, Nick, I swear to god."

"Shut up," Nick chants. "Shut up, shut up."

He gets himself ready and slides in, Louis so fucking tight around him, fuck. Louis feels fucking amazing; Nick tries not to thrust too erratically, but he doesn't even manage to get a good rhythm going before he's coming. It'd be embarrassing if Louis didn't seem to love it that much. He won't shut up, keeps begging Nick to get him off already, _god_.

"Give me a second, jesus," Nick says, shuddering. He rests his forehead on Louis's chest, just breathing for a bit. God.

"Nick," Louis says, poking his shoulder. "Move, come on. Nick."

Nick takes a deep breath and lifts his head. Louis is staring at him, so close it makes Nick go a bit cross-eyed. It's one of those weird moments where everything just stops for a second. Nick can't remember what he's supposed to be doing.

"Nick," Louis says. "Fucking do something."

"Oh," Nick says, and almost laughs. Jesus. He pulls out and gets rid of the condom as quick as he can, turning his attention back to Louis.

Louis is clutching the bedsheets, flushed and tense, and Nick doesn't understand why he just won't get himself off.

"Nick, _please_ ," Louis says, catching Nick's gaze and holding it. "Come on, want it to be you, come on."

Nick's totally taken back by that, freezing for a moment. Louis is a lot.

"Come _on_ ," Louis says. "Nick."

Louis comes practically the minute Nick touches him. He makes this ridiculous and loud mewling noise and Nick leans down to kiss him through it, even though Louis can't really focus enough to kiss him back. It's hot. It's really fucking hot.

"Fuck," Louis says after, panting. "Fuck."

"Pretty much," Nick says, and wipes his hand against Louis's hip.

"Ugh," Louis says. "Why?"

"Because," Nick says.

"Seriously, get a towel or something."

"A towel?" Nick asks. "Gross." He reaches out and gently pinches Louis's nipple.

Louis comes off the bed with a shout, almost toppling Nick over.

"Whoa," Nick says, steading himself with a hand on Louis's belly.

"Shit," Louis says. "Shit, holy shit."

"Sorry," Nick says, petting his stomach. "I should have asked."

"No," Louis says, and lies back down. "I mean, yeah, but I like it, just. Really fucking sensitive."

"I can see that," Nick says, and files it away for later. Shit. Later. Is there going to be later? Well, he might as well keep it in mind. It's late and he's just proper gotten off with someone he really fucking likes, he can try being optimistic in this moment. Why the fuck not.

"Should we clean up?" Louis asks. "I'm going to fall asleep."

"Yeah, hold on," Nick says. He presses a quick kiss to the side of Louis's mouth, and gets up and goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a wet flannel and cleans Louis up swiftly. He throws the flannel on the floor and collapses face first on the bed, right next to Louis.

Louis hums. "Tired."

"Yeah," Nick says, voice muffled. "That was good, though."

"Really good," Louis says, and turns on his side, curling up against Nick.

Nick doesn't remember falling asleep.

~

Nick wakes in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

He doesn't have time to look at the situation objectively before his stomach goes tight with panic. It's so _dark_ , is the thing. His phone tells him it's fucking four in the morning and he has no idea where Louis could have gone since he was literally right there.

For a second Nick entertains the thought that Louis just had to get up for a wee, but unless he's pissing in the dark and absolutely silently, then, well, he's clearly not in the bathroom. Nick clumsily turns the light on and, yeah, Louis's clothes are gone, too.

He's gone and Nick is alone in his bed and he's literally having trouble breathing. Which is so _stupid_ , it's the stupidest fucking thing, but it's still happening.

Nick closes his eyes and focuses on taking even breaths, fingers clutching the covers.

It's only then that he hears it, the reason why must be awake right now. Someone's banging on his door. Fuck.

He makes it out of bed and into the hall, and he has no idea whatsoever how he missed the noise at first. He wouldn't be surprised if it was waking up all his neighbours.

He opens the door to an embarrassed looking Louis.

"Hi," Louis says.

"There's a doorbell," Nick says.

"I know," Louis says. "I tried that at first."

"Oh," Nick says, confused.

"Yeah," Louis says. "Look, I—Are... Nick, are you okay?"

Nick waves his hand and drags in a deep breath. He thinks he's calming down, mostly, but the whole breathing thing is still weird. He hates breathing. Overrated, really.

"Nick," Louis says, sounding worried now. He steps into the flat and reaches for Nick's hand, pulling back at the last second. "What's wrong? What should I do?"

"Nothing," Nick says. "I just—I need a minute."

"But—"

"Just a minute, please. Just. Fuck."

"Okay," Louis says, voice gentle. "Just. Breathe, Nick."

Nick breathes. Slowly. Slow breaths.

"Do you need your inhaler?" Louis asks.

"No," Nick says. It isn't that. It's just a bit of irrational fear. He's fine.

"Okay," Louis says. "You're okay."

Nick closes his eyes, slumping against the wall. He's got it all under control. Totally fine, really. He'll just breathe for a bit.

Surprisingly, it does help. Louis being quiet, but there, helps, too. Nick's fine. He's fine.

When he opens his eyes he finds Louis is staring at him, wary. 

Nick's suddenly so tired. "Why were you trying to wake up all my neighbours at four in the morning?" he asks.

"You gave me your coat last night," Louis says. 

Nick frowns. Had he? If pressed he maybe remembers it being faintly chilly outside, and Louis crossing his arms over his chest, pouting under the streetlights. He'd left his at the club for Niall, right.

"My phone and keys are still in the pockets. And, like, my Oyster card and stuff. Sorry."

"Oh," Nick says. "Alright."

"Are you okay now?"

"Fine," Nick says automatically. "Really."

"Are you sure?" Louis asks. "What was that about? Asthma attack?"

Nick shakes his head. "Just get weird sometimes when I wake up alone."

"Oh," Louis says, a furrow in his brow. "Huh."

"Soz and all," Nick shrugs.

"No, no," Louis says quickly. "You don't have to apologise. Just didn't know."

Nick shrugs again. "Why would you, right?"

"Right," Louis echoes. It's so awkward. Louis was leaving, he would already be gone if he hadn't forgotten his stuff. "I think you should have water."

Nick frowns. "What?"

"Water," Louis says, and tilts his head toward the kitchen. "You should have some. Come on."

Nick follows him into the kitchen, confused. Louis sits him down at the kitchen table and gets him a glass of water. Then he stands around, wringing his hands, and looking very awkward.

Nick drinks his water, and raises his eyebrows in a, "see, I'm fine," gesture.

"Um," Louis says. "Right. So, the coat is..."

"In the hall?" Nick asks. "Probably."

"Right," Louis says, nodding. "Uh, I'll just. Yeah."

Nick waits until Louis's left the kitchen before he rests his head on the table and groans. For fuck's sake.

He's settled down enough to feel like going back to sleep when Louis appears again.

"It was on the sofa," Louis says.

Nick shrugs. It's not like he particularly cares.

"Are you sure you're okay now?" Louis asks.

"Yeah," Nick says. "I'm fine, swear."

"Good," Louis says. "Okay, I'm just—I'll just go, then." He stares at Nick for a moment longer, then turns abruptly and heads for the door.

"Wait," Nick says, because why the fuck not. "Just wondering, are we not going to talk for weeks again? Months?"

Louis freezes, his back to Nick.

"I mean, the shows are over, so I suppose it doesn't really matter. Just curious."

Louis turns to face him, a curious look on his face. "You're upset with me."

"Really?" Nick asks. "God, I wonder why, it's not like someone woke me up in the middle of the night and almost gave me a fucking panic attack."

"That wasn't my fault," Louis says, defensive. "I didn't know."

Nick groans. "I know. Christ. Just, god, Louis, I have to get up at bloody five am!"

"I know!" Louis says. "Otherwise I would have snuck out later!"

"Why did you have to sneak out at all?"

"Why would you want me to stay?"

Nick pauses. "What? What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Louis huffs and crosses his arms, looking down. There's a moment of quiet. Nick can hear birds chirping outside. It's the strangest thing.

"Just so we're clear here," Nick says slowly. "You're the one who stopped talking to me. Remember? After that time we hooked up? You do remember that, right?"

"Fuck off," Louis grumbles. "I remember."

"Okay," Nick says. "I mean. Like, I'm just thinking, if you weren't interested then you could have just said, you know? Or if you weren't actually that into guys, I don't know."

Louis snorts. "Based on last night I think it's safe to say I'm pretty into guys."

"Oh," Nick says. "Um. Did you, like, not know before? Because that's fine, of course."

"Shut up," Louis says, cheeks going red. "No, of course I knew. I've been with other guys, okay. God."

"Okay," Nick says. "But—" he sighs and scratches at his neck, slightly uncomfortable. "You seriously could have just said if you weren't that interested."

Except, they're here right now, so evidently Louis either had been interested or changed his mind. Or he just wanted a fuck last night and Nick was there. Fuck it, whatever the reason, Nick doesn't understand why that means they can't be friends.

"It's just," Nick says. "I sort of assumed we were friends? And then you sort of disappeared on me."

Louis hugs himself, his shoulders going up, making him look defensive and spiky. "It's not like I saw you around much," he says.

"I got busy," Nick says. "With Breakfast and everything."

"Well, there you go," Louis says, like that means anything.

"I still made time for my friends," Nick says carefully. "I couldn't get hold of you, so I just thought I'd leave you alone."

"Must have been a huge loss," Louis says. His face twists, but it doesn't seem to be directed at Nick. Nick's so frustrated with him, god.

"Okay," Nick says. "I have no idea what's going on anymore. Come sit down and tell me what the fuck happened."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Nick."

"I'm serious," Nick says. "We're up at fucking four in the morning, what else are we going to do. Get yourself a cup of tea or something. I'm so tired of this, just tell me why you didn't respond to any of my texts and are now acting like it's my fault."

Louis groans and covers his face with his hands. "This is so stupid."

"Oh _god_ ," Nick says. "Fine, okay, fuck, just go then. Whatever."

Louis doesn't leave. He wraps his arms around his middle again and chews on his lip, eyes on Nick. Nick waits a beat, then makes a "go on" gesture.

"Why didn't you tell me you got Breakfast?" Louis asks.

That's not really where Nick thought this was going.

"You knew back then that you got it, right?"

"Yeah," Nick says. "I think so." It was around that time he found out, probably. "Is that—what, you were jealous?"

Louis frowns. "No? Why would I be jealous?"

"Well," Nick starts.

"I just..." Louis says, interrupting. "I don't know, I thought you'd tell me."

Nick rests his chin on his hands, thinking back to that summer. "I didn't really tell anyone," he says. "Secret and all."

Louis looks confused at that. "Oh. I thought—"

"What?"

"I mean," Louis says. "I sort of overheard it by accident. I guess. And I—I figured everyone knew."

"Well," Nick says. "The bosses knew. I didn't tell anyone."

Louis groans loudly and drops into the chair opposite Nick, and buries his face in his hands.

"So," Nick says carefully. "Just so I'm clear on this, you stopped talking to me because you thought I was keeping a secret specifically from you? Even though I hadn't told any of my other friends either."

Louis makes a pathetic little growly noise.

"Because I'm sorry, love, but that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Louis finally looks up at that, clearly frustrated and embarrassed.

"It wasn't _just_ that," he says. "It was—like. Fuck, okay. So I went home that night and it was great, right? And then you texted the next day about, like, going out with friends or something. And I was glad you wanted to see me again. But then I sort of started doubting it, like, what if you mean just as friends? And I'd liked that night a lot more than you did?"

"So you did the mature thing of ignoring my text altogether," Nick says.

"No," Louis says. "I was going to reply later, and then I honestly forgot, I swear."

"Wow," Nick says, shaking his head.

"Anyway," Louis says. "You sent another one the next day, I think, about going out somewhere that night, and I was going to say yes. And I even thought about asking you, like, if you were interested." He rolls his eyes at himself. "And then later that day I overheard one of the bosses mentioning it, complete accident, right? But I felt hurt you'd not told me, I suppose."

"I honestly didn't tell anyone," Nick says.

"I know," Louis says. "Well, I know that _now_." He makes a self-deprecating face. "Anyway, then I thought about how you were going to be more famous and how you could have anyone you wanted, like, even back then, obviously, and I wasn't even properly _out_ really, and I really—" 

He cuts himself off and looks at the ceiling, sighing. Nick waits him out. This is all sort of fascinating. And a clear sign that Louis is apparently prone to overthinking, which Nick didn't really expect.

"And," Louis says finally. "And I really liked you. And I wanted to, like, I wanted to kiss you again, and the lot. And I don't really like doing casual, not when I really like someone."

"So you decided we shouldn't be friends," Nick says, vaguely hurt and confused. Louis liked him. Louis is an _idiot_. Louis is young, still, and is not the first person in the world who's fucked up.

"No, I didn't decide that," Louis says. "I just. I just didn't text back. And then you stopped trying to contact me and I thought, well, you didn't really need me, did you? And you have loads of friends, it's not like you missed me."

Nick stares at Louis in silence. Louis is absolutely ridiculous. And apparently really shit at feelings. And communication. To be fair, Nick's shit at communication and feelings, too, but he hopes he's a bit better than that.

"So," Nick says. "So, let me just do a quick summary. You liked me?"

Louis looks a bit nervous, but he nods.

"You thought I didn't like you."

A shrug and a tiny nod.

"Against all evidence to the contrary," Nick says. "You assumed I didn't like you. So you thought I wouldn't care if we weren't friends anymore and just decided to—just do that. Without even considering any other options."

Louis pulls his shoulders up again, like a defensive animal. "I suppose."

"So you essentially decided to sabotage yourself," Nick says. "And didn't really care what I thought about any of it."

Louis shakes his head, face crumpled up. "I didn't—"

"You sort of did," Nick says.

"Fine," Louis says. "Maybe I did. What _did_ you think about it, then?"

"I thought you didn't like me," Nick says honestly. " _I_ thought you just wanted to get off with me for a laugh or something. Or maybe just for the hell of it, which is generally fine. But I thought we were friends, or were going to be friends, and then I thought you didn't like me anymore so I left you alone."

"But I did," Louis says, slightly agitated. "I liked you too much. I didn't want to—I didn't think you'd care that much."

"Well, you should have asked, really," Nick says.

"But you didn't want me like that," Louis says.

"A," Nick says. "You don't know that. B, so, what, you just stop talking to me?"

"Nick," Louis says. "God. I'm sorry. Really. I fucked it up, I know. I didn't mean to."

The thing is, Nick understands on some level what Louis was trying to do. He was afraid of getting hurt so he decided to push Nick away, so he could stay in control of himself. Nick gets it. It sucks, but he gets it. 

Louis looks quite torn up about it, too, like he understands how and why he fucked up. 

The real thing that Nick's surprised to hear is Louis admitting he liked Nick that much.

Nick wasn't that broken about Louis disappearing from his life, even though he missed him at times. But now he has Louis back, and even though it's clear Louis is really stupid about some stuff, Nick doesn't want him to go again.

Besides, it was two years ago, and Louis was barely an adult back then. Hell, he's barely an adult now, but he's here in Nick's kitchen, explaining and apologising for fucking up. It's progress. Nick will take it. If that's what Louis is offering, really.

"So," Nick says. "I know I keep saying this, but just to make it clear, again. You didn't stop talking to me because you hated me."

"No," Louis says immediately. "No."

Nick tilts his head, studying Louis. "What did you think when they said they wanted us to do the World Cup commentary?"

Louis snorts. "I thought, "Shit. This is going to be terrible.""

Nick laughs, unexpected. "You were pretty curt with me."

"I was angry with myself," Louis says. "And I took it out on you, because I'm _shit_. Sorry."

Nick shrugs. He's not really interested in dwelling on it. "You apologised already."

"Still," Louis says. "Sorry."

"Anyway," Nick says. "It didn't turn out that terrible."

"I suppose not," Louis says. "I mean—" He takes a deep breath. "I realised I still liked you as much as I did back then, so. Uh."

Nick blinks at him, taken aback by Louis being so blunt.

"I'm trying a new thing," Louis says. His face has gone all red. "Going to try it. It's where I actually talk to people about things. Or, like, about how I'm feeling. Liam said it'd be good for me." He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him.

"Oh," Nick says.

"What do you think?" Louis asks.

"I think it's a good idea," Nick says. "Honesty, and all that. Liam sounds like he has good ideas."

"Yeah," Louis says. "That's Liam." He takes a deep breath. "Nick."

"What?"

"Do you think we can try again?" Louis all but blurts out. "To be friends, at least? I mean, I'd like to—I fucked up, I know." He closes his eyes and scrunches up his nose. It's cute. "I missed you," he says. "I fucked up and I missed you and I'd really like to try again, please. If you—you know."

Nick does. He wants to see what could come of it. It was a misunderstanding, it was Louis being stupid, it was one of those things that sometimes just happens. Nick doesn't see a reason to say no. He has no idea how this is going to go, and he knows there's parts of him that he needs to figure out, too. It's almost five in the fucking morning and he doesn't feel like worrying about it. Not right now.

Louis's staring at him, wary, his face looking more resigned and closed off by the second. "Nick?"

"Come here," Nick says, and holds out a hand.

Louis inhales sharply and then he's up from his chair and half in Nick's lap. Nick pulls him in, resting his hand on Louis's back, and kisses him, soft and slow.

Louis makes fantastic little noises into his mouth, arms twined around Nick's neck, and Nick feels warm all the way to his toes. (Which were honestly getting pretty cold on the bare floor.)

"You know that I do like you, right?" Nick asks, after breaking the kiss. He pinches Louis's side and Louis yelps and twitches on his lap. Lovely.

"Do you?" Louis asks, eyes wide, but mischievous too. Very Louis.

"Of course I do," Nick says. "Wouldn't put up with you if I didn't, would I?"

Louis looks down at that, but he's smiling.

Nick pulls him in close for a proper hug, suddenly feeling exhausted. Too many emotions this early in the morning. 

"Sorry that I made you thought I hated you," Louis mumbles against Nick's neck. "Didn't actually mean to."

"I know," Nick says. "I get it. You like me an embarrassing amount."

Louis huffs. "Shut up." He mashes his nose against Nick's neck and breathes; the warm air makes goosebumps spread over Nick's skin. "I should go soon," Louis says. "Fuck."

"You could stay and kip here," Nick offers.

"No," Louis says. "Sorry, I just—"

"Want your own bed?" Nick asks.

Louis pouts at him, then huffs and climbs off Nick. "Something like that."

"I get it," Nick says. "You got your things?"

"Yeah," Louis says and picks them up from the kitchen counter, waves them at Nick. Nick trails him to the door, and leans against the hallway wall. Fuck, he's going to fall asleep standing up. He needs coffee.

"You didn't get your tea," Nick says.

"Oh," Louis says, surprised. "Yeah. Next time. I'll show you how to make it proper."

"Sure," Nick says, smiling.

"And," Louis says, "maybe, like, this weekend—" He waves his hand around as if that's supposed to signal something to Nick.

"This weekend," Nick repeats. "Oh, Glastonbury's this weekend!"

"Oh," Louis says. "Oh, yeah, I'm not going to that."

"Really?" Nick asks. "I could try to maybe get you...ah, no, yeah, I promised my extra ticket to a friend."

Louis smiles, just a quick quirk of his lips. "That's fine. Uh. So, but, when you get back? Like we could do something, I suppose?"

"Of course," Nick says. "Yeah."

"Okay," Louis says, letting out a breath. "Good." He looks relieved, like he thought Nick was going to say no. Ridiculous.

"Fuck, I need to start getting ready," Nick says. "God, I have _work_."

Louis muffles a laugh behind his hand.

"You want to come sit in?" Nick asks, hopeful.

Louis grins, amused. "No. No, I really don't."

"Please?" Nick tries.

"And get teased by your team?" Louis asks. "Nah, don't think so."

Nick sighs. "Fine. God, I need coffee, I'm going to die on my way in."

"No, you won't," Louis says. "You should shower, though."

"Fuck, I should," Nick says. "Fuck."

Louis laughs. Nick smiles, even though he's so tired at the moment his face doesn't want to move right.

"I should go," Louis says. "You need to get ready."

"I'm going to fall asleep mid-link," Nick says. "I'm honestly going to die. You have to text me to keep me awake, please."

"Yeah, no," Louis says. "I'm knackered. I'm going to sleep the second I get home."

Nick sighs and covers his face with his hands. "Why do I even like you?"

"Don't know," Louis says softly. "Suppose I'm just that great."

"Yeah," Nick says. "Suppose so."

There's a pause and then Louis darts forward for a quick kiss. Nick pulls him closer with a hand on Louis's back and holds him there, just for a bit longer.

Louis texts him all throughout the show. Matt threatens to confiscate Nick's phone.

~

"Hello," Nick says, "it's Tuesday, the day Matt Fincham hates the most, and up next we're going to hear some live stuff from Glastonbury. But first—" He narrows his eyes at Fifi and Matt. "Do you want to tell the listeners about the prank you pulled on me on... When was it, Thursday?"

"Thursday afternoon, yes," Matt says.

"A day before I was going to leave for Glastonbury. I was all packed and everything."

"And you still got to go," Matt says. "So don't get in a strop about it."

"That's right, I did get to go," Nick says. "Unlike poor Fifi."

"Oi," Fiona says. Nick makes a faux-pitying face at her. She rolls her eyes.

"It was a good prank, though," Matt says. 

"Really good," Fiona says. "Very, uh, interesting."

Nick glares at her and she pulls a face. Honestly.

"Would you like to tell the listeners about it yourself, Nick?" Matt asks. "Set it up?"

Oh, right. "Yes, yes yes," Nick says. "So, to those of you who don't know, I've been doing football commentary, yes, _football_ commentary, with Louis Tomlinson, of weekend fame. We did four games, I think they went pretty well."

"Decent reception," Matt says dryly. Nick sticks his tongue out at him.

"Anyway, so, we were done with the commentary, and then on the weekend there was Glastonbury. But on Thursday, I get this call."

He puts the clip on and settles back to listen.

_"Hello?" Nick says._

_"Hey, it's Louis."_

_"Louis!" Nick says, excitement clear in his voice. "How are you?"_

_"I'm good, yeah, good," Louis says._

_"Great," Nick says. "I'm—"_

_"Listen," Louis says. "Bad news."_

_"What?" Nick asks. "Are you okay?"_

_"Yeah," Louis says. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Nothing like that."_

_"Okay," Nick says. "What's up, then?"_

_"The thing is," Louis says, "they want us to do one more commentary."_

_"Oh," Nick says. "Huh, okay, when?"_

_"This weekend. Saturday, it's Brazil vs Chile, first of knockout stage matches."_

_"What?" Nick asks. "This weekend? It's Glastonbury!"_

_"I know," Louis says, "but they said—"_

_"Is this a joke?" Nick asks. "It's a joke, right?"_

_"They said you're not working at Glastonbury this year, so you have time for it."_

_"That's_ ridiculous _," Nick says. There's a pause. "This Saturday?"_

_"Sorry," Louis says._

_"But_ why _?"_

_There's a ruffling heard over the line. "I don't know. I suppose people liked it?"_

_"But it's such short notice," Nick complains. "I have all my stuff packed, Louis, I'm going to Glasto tomorrow morning."_

_"I know," Louis says. "But—"_

_"You do it."_

_A pause. "What?"_

_"You do it, you and Niall can do it on your own."_

_"Niall's—"_

_"Or get someone else in. Get Scott Mills in, is Scott going to Glasto?"_

_"I don't know," Louis says. "I'm not going to do it with Scott Mills."_

_"Well someone else, then," Nick says. "Pick someone else, you can do it with someone else. You don't need me."_

_There's a slightly longer pause this time. "I don't want to do it with anyone else."_

_Nick whines. "_ Louis. _"_

_There's a chuckle over the line. "Sorry. Maybe you can call in yourself and get out of it, I don't know."_

_"This is honestly not a joke, right?"_

_"Why would it be a joke?"_

_"I don't know," Nick says. "I even have Monday off, god, why would they do this? They knew I was going to Glastonbury."_

_Louis coughs._

_"Are you laughing?" Nick asks. "You're laughing at me. This is a prank!"_

_"It's not," Louis says._

_"Do you promise?" Nick asks. "You have to promise. Come on, Louis, be honest."_

_Louis groans. "That's not fair."_

_"I_ knew _it," Nick says. "I knew it, who else is there?"_

_There's the sound of Ian, Matt and Fiona laughing in the background._

_"You little—oh my_ god _."_

_Louis is flat-out laughing now with the rest of the crew. "Sorry."_

_"No, you're not," Nick says. "I can't believe it."_

_"I almost got you!"_

_"I knew it was a prank," Nick says. "I knew immediately."_

_"Sure, yeah," Louis says, still softly giggling._

_"Ugh."_

_"Have fun at Glastonbury."_

_"I will," Nick says petulantly. "God."_

_"Speak later, bye!"_

_"Bye!" Nick says. The call clicks off._

"That was good," Matt says. "We almost had you."

"You did not," Nick says.

"Nah, we did," Fiona says. "You totally believed Tommo."

"Whose idea was it, anyway?" Nick asks.

"All of us, sort of," Matt says. "I think it worked out great."

Nick groans exaggeratedly.

"Come on, honestly, though. Did you believe it?"

"I—" Nick starts. "You know, I honestly did at first. Like, I thought something was off about it, but I did believe it."

"Yes," Fiona whispers.

"I love how you tried to get out of it by just whining at him," Matt says.

"That's very Nick," says Fiona.

"I loved Louis saying he doesn't want to do it with Scott. Why not?" Nick asks, laughing.

"He doesn't want to do it with anyone else but you," Matt says idly. Nick glares at him. He's not sure if Matt knows anything; they did have to cut out a bit from the call, mostly Nick swearing, but not anything incriminating. 

"Aww," Fiona says. "That's sweet."

"Shut up," Nick grumbles. He glances at the screen. "Someone on the texts says, "Grimmy, right call, Glastonbury over football!" Yes, thank you."

"Choosing Glastonbury over work," Matt says.

"It wasn't work!" Nick says. "Don't choose Glastonbury over work, guys."

"If he'd legitimately asked you to come in and do the show with him, would you have gone?" Fiona asks.

Nick stares at her in despair. "I don't know."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Fiona asks.

"I don't know, Fifi, god."

"I'm just curious."

"Maybe you could have done commentary from Glastonbury," Matt says.

"Yes, perfect," Nick says. "The wifi is strong, it's currently not raining, the ground is holding up well. Two nil to Glastonbury."

"I meant you could have commentated on the match," Matt says.

"Oh, well, Louis wasn't at Glastonbury so we couldn't have, really," Nick says. "Do you think anyone would have even wanted us to? Or were they, like, four's enough, get lost already."

"I think you had fans," Fiona says. "People liked it."

"Well," Nick says. "Next time? What is it, four years from now?"

"You could do the Euros again," Matt says.

Nick grins. "Euros it is! But now it's eight thirty, and it's time for the news with Tina Daheley."

He fades the mic down, and turns to the screens again. A few people have already texted in, _Can't wait for next time!_

His phone beeps. Louis's text just says, _Euros ! :D_ Nick smiles at it.

~

Louis is pants at watching tennis.

He tries to pay attention at first, like, way more attention than Nick, but he starts complaining after a while, because nothing's happening.

"What do you mean there's nothing happening?" Nick asks. "There's constantly something happening. It's not like football where you have to wait ninety minutes for someone to score."

"But this is all the same," Louis says. "How can you stay focused on this?"

"I don't," Nick says. "It's going to take a couple of hours, we can do things in the meanwhile. I was supposed to put some washing on. You're the one who insisted on watching the whole thing."

The worst part is that Nick invited Louis over for lunch and possibly other things, and now Louis isn't paying any attention to him. Terrible.

Louis frowns at the screen. "You watch it."

"So?" Nick asks. "That doesn't mean you have to. Anyway, it's only the first set. We're not going to miss much."

"But." Louis huffs, and starts tugging on his bottom lip, eyes still on the screen. It's too much. Nick hasn't gotten to touch him for almost a _week_ now, they've both been too busy. Apparently Louis is volunteering at a nursery on the side and doing an online course in teaching. Louis is a lot. Nick wants him to be a lot right here in this moment with Nick.

Nick pokes him in the shoulder. "Louis. Pay attention to me."

"What?" Louis asks, turning towards him. Nick kisses him.

Louis makes a happy noise and immediately climbs into Nick's lap. Nick grabs onto Louis's thighs, digging his fingers in, because the thought of not touching Louis's thighs when they're right there is ridiculous.

Louis is an enthusiastic kisser, and seems to like it when Nick takes control, so after a bit, Nick gets his hands on Louis's arse and pulls Louis even closer, positions them so Louis is straddling Nick's thigh. Nick's wearing old jean shorts, but Louis is wearing sweatpants and Nick really wants to get his hand on Louis's dick.

At the same time he wants to just keep on doing this and see what happens. He can feel that Louis is hard against his thigh and he wonders if Louis could come just from this, from kissing, and the friction.

He moves one hand to Louis's hair, tugs off the headband so he can properly fist Louis's hair and guide him. Louis makes a protesting sound at his headband coming off, but doesn't pull away. Nick keeps his other hand on Louis's arse, guiding him into a rhythm where he's grinding against Nick's thigh.

The sounds Louis makes are amazing. They're these tiny little groans that he's stifling as though he's embarrassed to be too loud, like it's different now that they're out in daylight and not in bed together. 

Nick is obsessed with them.

"Fuck," Louis says finally, panting against Nick's mouth, his voice rough. "Nick, just. Touch me or something, god."

Nick hums and tugs on Louis's hair a little. "Do I have to?"

"Fuck," Louis says. "Nick, please."

"Think you'll get there on your own, love," Nick says, squeezing Louis's arse.

Louis curses, but doesn't stop, doesn't ask Nick again or almost demand it like he asked to be fucked, brittle, but determined. Eventually Louis moans softly, the sound muffled against Nick's neck, and slumps in Nick's arms. Nick holds him for a while, still twisting his hand in Louis's hair. It's a bit greasy and gross, but Nick doesn't really mind.

Louis pulls back eventually; he's pink-cheeked and his gaze a bit unfocused. He looks amazing. "I'm going to—" He waves his arm in the direction of the bedroom. "Bathroom."

"Okay," Nick says. "Need any help?"

"No, it's fine," Louis says. "Stay."

Nick thinks about following anyway, but Louis seems to really mean it, so Nick just watches him go and turns back to the TV. He's a bit—well, slightly more than a bit—turned on, but he feels like just riding it out at the moment, too content to do much. The whole day feels like that: sleepy, warm and comfortable.

Louis stumbles back into the living room after a while and flops down on the sofa next to Nick, curling up.

"You good?" Nick asks.

"Uh-huh," Louis says, eyes already closing. Nick pats his leg and lets him be.

Louis sleeps through the next two sets, stretched out on the sofa with his legs over Nick's lap. Nick wakes him for the last one. Louis waking up is hilarious; he comes to with a gasp, a flailing of limbs, and a rushed, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Nick says, and helps Louis settle against his shoulder. "Last set."

Louis yawns. "Oh. Okay."

He's warm and pliant against Nick's side, his head resting on Nick's shoulder. Nick feels weirdly relaxed about it. Like he could get used to it.

"This is going to be the interesting bit, right?" Louis asks.

"Yes," Nick says, and tries to focus on the moment. His brain sometimes gets ahead of itself. It's really annoying.

"Okay," Louis says softly, and yawns again. They watch the set in silence for several minutes. "Are we doing anything after this?" Louis asks.

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Louis says. "It's a nice day. Could go to the park or something. Nice area and all that."

"Yeah," Nick says. "That'd be nice." He doesn't ask if Louis means, like, a date. They haven't really gone on a date yet. Nick's weird about dates. He doesn't think watching Wimbledon together qualifies.

"Hey," Louis says.

"Yeah?" Nick asks after Louis doesn't follow up.

"Can I come here tomorrow to watch football?"

"You want to?" Nick asks, surprised. "You don't want to go out to some pub instead?"

"No," Louis says simply.

"Oh," Nick says. "When's it end?"

"Not late. Like eleven."

"That's fine," Nick says.

"So you're okay with it?"

"Yeah, sure," Nick says. "Just. Why? Isn't it annoying to watch football with me?"

"No," Louis says again. "I like it."

"Really?" Nick asks.

"Yeah," Louis says. He smiles a little. "Suppose I'm used to it. Your rambling helps me focus."

"Hey," Nick says petulantly.

"It's a compliment," Louis says.

"Yeah, sure," Nick says, rolling his eyes.

"Also," Louis says slowly. "Also, maybe, possibly, I like spending time with you."

"Oh," Nick says, smiling helplessly. "Same."

Louis leans in to kiss him.


End file.
